


the simplest things

by chryysaskk



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Slice of Life, Tumblr Prompt, no beta we die like witchers, of course he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29158353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chryysaskk/pseuds/chryysaskk
Summary: "You don't want me to get beaten up, is that right? You don't like it, no matter how you tease about it. I know now. You wouldn't let anyone hurt me, Geralt. You love me too much to do that. You would never."Geralt halted for a second, his hand hovering above Jaskier's cheek. Thought of raising his look but he glanced to the side instead, swallowed. Then went on cleaning the last of the blood.Five times Geralt showed Jaskier he loves him and one time he actually said it out loud.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 241





	the simplest things

**Author's Note:**

> this is a tumblr [prompt](https://wanderlust-t.tumblr.com/post/631542041199902720/geraskier-prompt-5-1-5-times-geralt-showed) from october (!) that i wanted to post here and always forgot so here you are! it's not my best work if i think about it but it's soft so i don't really care, they're in love your honour.
> 
> i hope you enjoy and if you decide to leave kudos or comments i'll give you the biggest digital hug <3

_i._

If Jaskier was in the mood of reciting poetry right now, he would definitely say something about how the soles of his boots had become one with the ground to the point he sometimes wondered if he actually wore shoes. They had been walking all day, barely stopping for ten minutes before they set off again. He dared not speak, he knew they had to reach the next town without any delay, they were really out of supplies now and Geralt wouldn’t put up with another night under the stars just because he couldn’t move his feet. Well, it was not _just because_. But he knew better than to whine for the hundredth time that day, realizing he was wasting his saliva.

That did not stop him from grunting though. And if he had to be honest, he didn’t grunt to get on Geralt’s nerves, although he knew he had succeeded at that with flying colours. But he was tired. Really tired.

At least Geralt was walking beside him. At least. Otherwise he would collapse just by looking at him resting on Roach’s back while he was dragging his feet on the ground.

The sun had almost set.

“Are we there yet?” That was the question he concluded to after another choir of grunts and sighs accompanied by a lively performance of stumbling every five minutes. When Geralt didn’t answer he took the chance to sigh once more, for the drama of it all.

And then Geralt stopped. Turned at him, and Jaskier knew perfectly well that look of utter indignation. And waited to be sweared at, smiling to himself. Only that Geralt’s expression wasn’t that of a man ready to swear.

“Get on Roach.”

Jaskier was persuaded he heard wrong and didn’t bother to move an inch. But then Geralt pushed him forward with a sigh that was almost fond. “Go on.”

“Um… Are you–”

“Last chance.”

He’d be a fool to miss it. So he climbed Roach as the mare snorted and wiggled her tail and he stroked her neck with an endearment. They went on. He glanced at Geralt. Didn’t wait to receive a glance in return though. He just smiled.

Geralt didn’t look back. “Don’t get asleep up there,” he said, even though he didn’t mean it, and when he heard a whispered _thank you_ that was almost lost with the wind, he hummed.

_ii_.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Why, thank you.” Jaskier pouted and hissed silently as Geralt cleaned the blood off his bruised cheek with a wet cloth. He knew he had no right to complain now, particularly when Geralt was rather gentle with his movements, albeit the annoyance in his eyes. Yet he would burst if he didn’t say anything. “You’re not less of an idiot yourself.” Geralt opened his eyes wide and stared at him, making it really hard for him to hold back his laughter. “Excuse me, dear witcher,” he snorted, “were you not the one who said you didn’t care about what sort of trouble I got myself in from now on? You were, yes, yes, you were. So you had no business dragging me from the fight, as you have no business tending to my cheek right now. Right?”

“Shut up, Jaskier.” Geralt pressed the cloth on the bard’s cheek ever so slightly, just to receive another hiss and Jaskier getting his tongue out at him. He hid a smile. “You’d be beaten up in an alley had I not been there.”

“Aww, you sweet soul,” Jaskier chuckled and had no intention of regretting it although the witcher glared at him. He squinted in thought for a moment, then grinned. “Ohh, I see.”

Geralt grimaced. “You see, huh?”

“Yes, I see. You don’t want me to get beaten up, is that right? You don’t like it, no matter how you tease about it. I know now. You wouldn’t let anyone hurt me, Geralt. You love me too much to do that. You would never.”

Geralt halted for a second, his hand hovering above Jaskier’s cheek. Thought of raising his look but he glanced to the side instead, swallowed. Then went on cleaning the last of the blood.

No sound was heard for a couple of minutes. Paradoxically. He finished applying a salve on the bard’s cheek and stood up without turning to look at him.

The air felt a bit heavy.

“Geralt.” Jaskier didn’t wait for the witcher to answer and the hum he received almost made him choke on his words. “You wouldn’t, would you?”

He saw Geralt freezing for a moment, then his breath hitched. He turned around and Jaskier would lie if he said he had seen his eyes soft like that before. Geralt shook his head lightly. “No, I wouldn’t.”

_I love you too much for that._

He stayed silent. The grin he saw on Jaskier’s face was enough.

_iii_.

Geralt returned to the camp to see Jaskier’s head hidden in the saddlebags, cursing in a language he wasn’t entirely sure he’d heard before. The bard revealed himself with an exasperated grunt.

“I can’t find my pen,” he said even though Geralt didn’t ask and kept on searching inside the bag. “It has to be here, I put it here! It can’t just be lost! What, did it pop out legs? No, it fucking didn’t, of course it didn’t, so where the fuck – oh, what’s this?”

Geralt had barely managed to make out what Jaskier was holding in the firelight and his heart flutttered when he understood. “Not that!” He saw Jaskier hesitating, his eyes darkening before he nodded and went to put the little box he was holding back in the bag. Geralt snorted. “No, keep it, it's–” He paused, thought about it for the millionth time since he’d bought it and tried to speak. Not that he would succeed anyway. “I bought it… I-I thought you’d like it.”

Jaskier frowned in confusion for a couple of seconds before he understood and his face lit up like the sun. “Oh, for… me?” Geralt nodded. He could watch him smiling like that forever. Jaskier opened the box and gasped. “Oh, Geralt.”

He took the ring in his hands, stroked his thumb over it. It was silver, carved with flowers on the top. His cheeks were burning. Probably his eyes too. “Geralt, it’s beautiful.” He looked up at the witcher and saw him smiling faintly, and his heart singed with love. “Thank you so much, dear.” He slipped the ring on his finger, stared at it. Felt Geralt approaching.

“It suits you.”

He looked up, met his eyes. Their stares were locked for a second. Then Geralt snorted and glanced at the ground, taking some steps back. Jaskier didn’t speak. Only closed his eyes.

_iv_.

The sound of whimpers made Geralt open his eyes and huff as he realized it was still night. He stayed still for some moments, heard the whimpers coming from behind his back and turned around. Sleep abandoned him entirely as he saw Jaskier’s shoulders shaking, his face hidden inside his hands. He was taking deep breaths that didn’t manage to stable the whining escaping his lips. Geralt sat on the bedroll and gently placed his hand on the bard’s shoulder. “Jaskier.”

Jaskier jerked in surprise and his head whipped to the side just to find Geralt looking at him with a deep frown. Suddenly, he felt worse than before. “Fuck, I woke you, I’m sorry,” he panted and ran his hands through his hair, heaving a long sigh and closing his eyes.

Geralt hummed and came closer. “It’s fine. What’s going on?” Jaskier glanced at him behind his lashes and he discerned unshed tears hanging on their edges. A sudden desire to kiss them dry overwhelmed him and he swallowed hard.

“Nothing, just a nightmare.” Jaskier wiped his eyes on his own and cleared his throat. “I’ll go to sleep again and it’ll vanish.” A fake smile curved his lips. Geralt felt his heart aching. The way Jaskier’s hands trembled on his knees made it hard to resist the urge to hold them.

Still, as Jaskier laid down without speaking and he saw his shoulders still shaking under the blanket, he knew he’d be damned if he went back to sleep. So he dragged his bedroll closer and wrapped his hand around the bard, holding him tight on his chest until the trembling stopped and Jaskier breathed a sleepy hum and Geralt felt warmth flooding his body. And even if after some time he leaned to press a kiss on Jaskier’s head, no one would ever know. And he hoped Jaskier was too exhausted to feel it.

And Jaskier smiled.

_v_.

“I’m going to win and you can bet to that! Those people are amateurs, can’t even compose a proper rhyme. It’s too easy.”

Geralt shook his head. “Better keep your mouth shut in front of them if that’s the only thing you’re gonna say for the next days.”

Jaskier huffed and strummed his lute, raised his head proudly. “Please, what are they gonna do? Sing me to death? There are barely two or three worthy opponents.”

The walls of Novigrad showed up before them. Geralt peered at them before turning to the bard, just to see him wearing the same expression of slight hesitation he didn’t dare to make visible. Jaskier lowered his eyes, then looked at him, bitting his lip. “Are you sure you don’t want to come? I can,” he tilted his head with a smile, “I can buy as as much ale as you want with the money of the prize, we’ll… have a celebration.”

Geralt would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted, staring into begging blue eyes. But he shook his head. “There’s a noonwraith in the next town. I can’t stay.” The darkening of Jaskier’s face made his heart ache. “We can celebrate after I’m done,” he rushed to say and really hoped he didn’t sound too desperate. Jaskier’s wide grin erased his fear.

“You’re right!” He shifted the lute in his hands and took some steps, waving his hand at the witcher. “I’ll see you then, Geralt.” Then turned to leave.

Geralt clenched his fists, sniffed. He raised his look. “Jaskier.” The bard looked back, eyebrows raised and eyes gleaming. Geralt gazed at him. Oh, how he loved. How he loved him. “Take care.”

Jaskier smirked, stared at him for some moments and nodded. Then turned around again.

_vi_.

Geralt thought it was a good time.

He had put way much thought into it to reach to a conclusion. Thought that had kept him going for quite long, thought that gave him the illusion of impermanence. He was refuted though by his own self, every time his look flied to the man standing beside him to always find him there, with a speech ready on his lips and a sparkling light flowing from his eyes. Annoying, he would once say. Still said. But not just.

It was simple. Ever so simple, so that he wondered what held him back previously. This time he didn’t think about it. Maybe that’s what made the difference. He didn’t think. Only spoke what he saw.

“Jaskier.” The bard was sitting beside him on the log, strumming soft melodies and working out rhymes. He raised his head and met Geralt’s look. Geralt tilted his head, observed him. The way his eyebrows raised in question, the way his lips curved into a curious smile.

Jaskier waited, not long though, as the shade he discerned in Geralt’s eyes wasn’t one of a starting conversation. It was calm and gentle, almost loving. He shook his head. “What?”

Geralt frowned, then bit his lip, as if making a last moment’s decision. And when he made it, he spoke. “I love you.”

He realised that no matter how many years he knew Jaskier, the expressions that passed from his face at once were too difficult to decipher. Yet Jaskier didn’t seem surprised. Only he seemed happy, happier than before as he chuckled softly and placed the lute beside him without turning away. “I love you too, Geralt.”

Oh, no. That was wrong. He can’t have understood…

Geralt huffed shaking his head. “No, it’s not… I mean–”

“Geralt.” Jaskier came closer and took the witcher’s face inside his hands. “I love you too.”

Oh.

It was simple. Ever so simple.

So Geralt simply leaned and pressed their lips together just enough to feel Jaskier’s breath warming his face. A simple touch. And then Jaskier went deeper into the kiss and Geralt couldn’t believe how familiar loving Jaskier felt, as if every time he’d silently said _I love you_ , he proceeded to be as loud about it as he could.

So it was simple. He had loved Jaskier before. He would love him now too. Not silently, though.

Now he would love him out loud.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!
> 
> come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://wanderlust-t.tumblr.com/) if you want <3


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